


In the Darkest of Shadows

by Stargazer_01



Series: In the Dead of Night - Bellamione Series [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Addiction, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Canonical Character Death, Childhood Trauma, Death, Drinking, F/F, Falling In Love, Firewhiskey (Harry Potter), First Love, First War with Voldemort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Knifeplay, Not Canon Compliant, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Second War with Voldemort, Self-Hatred, Spy Bellatrix Black, Spy Severus Snape, Torture, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:08:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28000668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stargazer_01/pseuds/Stargazer_01
Summary: In a pre-'In the Dead of Night' world, Bellatrix's life is filled with deception, lies and death. She finds herself at the brink of madness over and over again, desperate to complete the mission she has devoted her life to.
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange & Minerva McGonagall, Bellatrix Black Lestrange & Narcissa Black Malfoy & Andromeda Black Tonks, Bellatrix Black Lestrange & Voldemort, Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Original Female Character(s), Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Series: In the Dead of Night - Bellamione Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2072205
Comments: 25
Kudos: 71
Collections: Bellamione





	1. Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Well, well... here we go again. 
> 
> Imagine how evil my cackle has been keeping this from you for so long. Especially those of you asking for a sequel and being told there wouldn't be one. And here I was, hiding a prequel from you. 
> 
> This story is going to be a lot darker than In the Dead of Night. It will have a fair amount of trigger warnings as we go on, including for this first chapter, which contains panic attacks and PTSD episodes. I will try to warn on each chapter for specifics, but I would advise not reading this if you want fluff. The ending will, however, give an insight into Bellatrix's mind during In the Dead of Night, so it is possible that you might want to skip to that... when I get to it. I shall try to remember to update the story summary with a 'skip to chapter.... for Bellatrix's view on moments of ItDoN' but if I forget I'm sure someone will remind me. 
> 
> There will be a lot of flashbacks to war in this story, torture, one night stands, drinking, death... you get the picture. That's enough of a warning, right? 
> 
> I hope you 'enjoy'. I'm not sure it's the right word for the torment Bellatrix will face in this story, but there we go. And um... Merry Christmas?
> 
> For reading ease, Bellatrix's thoughts are bold and italic, other people's thoughts and flashbacks are italics.

Bellatrix Black woke sharply, jolting up in bed gripping her wand, the ghosts of her dream still haunting her. She was drenched in sweat, her chaotic curls sticking to her face and back as she blinked into the gloom, trying to get a grip on reality. 

_**You’re safe. It wasn’t real. Breathe.** _

Of course, that wasn’t strictly true. The nightmares that plagued Bellatrix were not the creation of her imagination; she had lived every moment and, as she tried to stop her wand hand trembling, it felt as though she would relive them every night for the rest of her life. 

_“Please… no…”_

Her stomach lurched and the wand clattered on the floor as she threw herself from the bed and ran to the bathroom to throw up. The scent of burned flesh seemed to linger in her nostrils, although it had been years since it had happened. 

Curled around the toilet, her heated skin warming the cold porcelain, Bellatrix’s memories flooded her brain; drowning her in the cacophony of screams, cries and begging until one strangled, desperate scream tore through them all. It echoed through the small stone room and Bellatrix was vaguely aware that it had been ripped from her own throat, leaving it sore as though she had clawed at it from the inside. 

The dawn light had begun to creep across the floor when Bellatrix finally crawled out of the bathroom, her throat raw and her cheeks stained with tears. Her hand closed around her wand and she hauled herself back into bed; she flicked the wand at the glass abandoned on her nightstand and it filled with water. She took a tentative sip, feeling the cool liquid slide down her raw throat, making it contract painfully as she swallowed. 

She wiped her eyes and her cheeks as the sun rose and watched as it lit the side of her room where the door to the rest of her living quarters lay. It had used to comfort her, watching the light take over the shadows, but now it just reminded her that there was no light for her; nothing could light the darkness that filled her. She closed her eyes against the brightness, wishing that she could sink into sleep to block it out, but knowing that worse things lay in wait for her in her dreams. 

She stayed there for a while, feeling the sun crossing her skin although it never seemed to warm it. The chill was what moved her eventually; she moved slowly across the room and unhooked her robe, slipping her arms into it and wrapping it around her before venturing out of her bedroom. 

The room was dark; she had black drapes covering the windows in here and she let out an audible sigh of relief at the familiarity the darkness brought. She felt her way to the kitchen while her vision adjusted and put her hand on the kettle. She paused as it came into focus and she stared at it, as though willing it to boil. 

It didn’t, of course. 

Her eyes fell on the bottle by the sink, half full and inviting. Warmth lay there and blissful numbness if she had more than half of the liquid. Her fingers clenched on the handle of the kettle and she closed her eyes. 

_**Not today. You can’t today.** _

_**But surely one wouldn’t hurt?** _

The bottle felt warm against her cool fingers and she saw it tremble in her hands as she held it over the glass. 

_**Just one.** _

The sharp tap on the door almost made her drop the bottle and she cursed, gripping it harder. Placing it back on the surface and pushing it to the wall, Bellatrix prowled over to the door and wrenched it open, ready to glare at the intruder. 

“Good morning Bellatrix.”

She gripped the door tighter, Dumbledore’s calm voice grating against her harsh edges in the early hours. 

“What exactly is good about it, Albus?”

“It is always a good day when students return to Hogwarts, Bellatrix.” Bellatrix scowled but he continued, unfazed. “And this year, as you know, we have a particular reason to be interested in our first years.”

Bellatrix’s hand tightened on the door. 

“Potter.”

“Yes,” Dumbledore studied her from over his half-moon spectacles. “Are you quite well, Bellatrix?”

“Fine.”

Dumbledore hummed, and Bellatrix knew that he didn’t believe her. The Headmaster rarely missed anything and she hated it. 

“Well, make sure to be at the feast tonight. We wouldn’t want to deprive the students of their favourite Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

“Quirrell is back from his travels, Albus. There is no need for me.”

“As I have explained to you before, Bellatrix, Professor Quirrell and yourself will work together this year. If you are intent on leaving us, which I do wish you would reconsider, then I want to be assured that your replacement has been trained to your standards.”

Bellatrix gritted her teeth and stepped aside, gesturing for Dumbledore to come inside. Once he had stepped through the door she closed it, knowing her wards and spells would protect them from any listening ears. 

“It’s been eleven years, Albus. He’s not coming back and I would like to try and regain some of the tatters of what used to be my life. I can’t do that here.”

“One more year. If you still feel the same by the end of the school year, you have my word that I will not say another word against you leaving.”

Bellatrix sighed, resting the back of her head against the wood of the door. 

“Very well. But he had better be a more competent defence teacher than he was with muggle studies.”

“I’m sure Professor Quirrell is up to the task.”

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. 

“Is there anything else?”

“Yes. I am aware that this is not easy for you, Bellatrix. My door is always open, if you should need-”

“-I’m fine, Albus.” Bellatrix saw Dumbledore’s eyes crinkle and relented slightly. “I will be at the feast tonight, ready to welcome the new students and watch the old ones warn them about the scary professor who used to be a death eater.”

Albus Dumbledore sighed. 

“Bellatrix, I assure you, he will return. I wouldn’t ask you to stay if I wasn’t sure. This is to protect you.”

Bellatrix closed her eyes as she gritted her teeth and when they opened she pulled the door open. 

“I’m sure you have a lot to do, don’t let me keep you.” 

She could feel those infuriatingly calm and understanding eyes on her but she refused to look at him as he passed her. She thought he might turn to say something else, so as soon as his cloak cleared the door, she closed it behind him and sagged against it. 

After a moment, when she was sure that he was gone, she stumbled over to her sofa and crawled onto it, lying face down and hiding in the curtain of curls that tumbled around her. She wanted nothing more than for everything to stop; for the world to stop spinning and allow her room to breathe. All those years, working hard, keeping her deception up and she still wasn’t free. Dumbledore would not release her. She didn’t know if it was worse, being told that she couldn’t dispel her role, than having it in the first place. 

Her heart ached and she realised she hadn’t taken a breath for a while; she took a deep breath and turned on her side slightly. The fire roared into existence and she stared at the flames licking the wood. Would she feel it, if she put her hand in the fire and let it lick her skin like it did the logs? She wasn’t sure anymore; everything inside her felt numb… felt dead. 

“Potter…” She remembered that night; the night that Voldemort had fallen and the world had been righted again. 

_Bellatrix had felt it; seen the mark fade. She waited, her entire body alive with the anticipation. When the ‘pop’ came, she hurried out of the shadows to find Dumbledore stepping through the gates back onto Hogwarts grounds._

_“Is it true?” Bellatrix knew she looked wild but she didn’t care. “He’s dead?”_

_“Yes,” Professor Dumbledore said, his eyebrow raised as he surveyed Bellatrix. “It certainly seems that way.”_

_Bellatrix’s heart soared and she practically choked on the tears streaming down her face._

_“He’s gone… I’m free.”_

_“Bellatrix-”_

_“They said it was the Potter child, the one he thought was dangerous. How can a child…?”_

_“We may never know,” Dumbledore murmured. Bellatrix wiped at her face, clearing away the tracks of tears._

_“Lily and James? Is it true they died?”_

_“Yes. I have just delivered Harry to his relatives.” Dumbledore studied her for a moment. “Are you quite alright, Bellatrix?”_

_“I’m free, Albus. I can-”_

_“Bellatrix,” Dumbledore interrupted her. “I think it would be wise to continue to keep a layer of uncertainty in the minds of both sides about your allegiance, at least for the moment.”_

_Bellatrix blinked._

_“What? Why? He’s gone. He’s dead. You said when he was gone that-”_

_“I only suggest this to protect you. There will be supporters of his that do not end their days in Azkaban. Even now they are claiming that they were under the power of the Imperius Curse.”_

_“But I can testify that they weren’t.”_

_“Bellatrix, you knew that the reputation you built could have consequences. Many will not believe you, or be wary of you forever. That doubt shall be there, no matter what you, or I, say, in some people’s minds. The stronger you oppose it, the more people will think you have something to hide. I will speak to the Ministry should they come after you. But it would be best if you did not make a show of your part in the war.”_

_Bellatrix stared at him numbly, the face of the man she trusted, the man who had asked her to do the impossible, the unthinkable…_

_“Albus… do you doubt his death?”_

_Dumbledore, usually so unfathomable, blinked._

_“What makes you ask, Bellatrix?”_

_“Because I can see no reason for this, unless you believe that he is not, in fact, dead.”_

_The silence stretched between them and Bellatrix studied Dumbledore’s face for any sign of a response, or a lie when he finally spoke._

_“I suspect that Voldemort,” Bellatrix winced and Dumbledore continued as though he had not seen her do so, “may have delved into darker magics than you or I would ever attempt, Bellatrix.”_

_Bellatrix’s mind raced and then…_

_“You believe he created a Horcrux?”_

_“I do.”_

_“You believe that he could return. That he plans to return.”_

_“I do.”_

_Bellatrix felt her heart sink and her throat constrict. She had been so close._

_“But… all these years… Albus, I have barely slept. I do not… I do not know if I can continue the charade.”_

_“What charade, Bellatrix? You need not lie to him while he is not here and you need do nothing but act as you have here, continue to teach and keep your ear to the ground. There will be followers who will flock to you, as his right hand; they will look to you for guidance. All you need do is express that your only desire is to find him. That is true, is it not?”_

A log shifted on the fire and Bellatrix started. Memories had mixed with dreams and she wasn’t sure how long she had been lying on the sofa, only that the fire was almost dead. She groaned and stood up, inching her way towards the curtains to open them. The light that spilled in blinded her and she squeezed her eyes shut tight; so hard that it hurt. 

When she could finally open them, slowly, Bellatrix stared down at the lake and considered her memories. Eleven years had passed and she had had no peace. One more year and she could be free. She would not let Dumbledore hold her back anymore. She would be free of this, take some time to restore what sanity she had clung to through the first war and find something to give her life meaning again. For a while, teaching had given her that, after the fall, but at some point the staring had started to creep under her skin. She had thought it would wear off, but they were still wary of her and she had not been able to shake her role. Even in school she had to maintain the mystery, keep her mind closed, because Dumbledore had invited Severus Snape to teach Potions after the war and she knew he served Voldemort. 

A part of her hated that he had escaped persecution, that Dumbledore had spoken for him. She knew what he was capable of and she knew that he was loyal. So why would Dumbledore treat them the same?

Her eyes flitted back to the bottle in the kitchen, barely visible now, and she gritted her teeth. A walk. She should go for a walk. 

Fists clenched, Bellatrix headed back into her bedroom to change. 

***

The candles above her flickered as Bellatrix took her seat at the head table and she cast a cursory look over the tables full of students in front of her. Her gaze rested on Slytherin; Snape would be taking over as Head of House this year and she felt a wave of regret run through her. It wasn’t that she didn’t like teaching, or indeed being Head of House, but her time at the school was still tied up in the life she’d been living; the role she’d been playing. She had spent so many years living like that; there had to be something more. The loneliness was eating her alive. 

The doors opened and Minerva appeared, leading the new students into the Great Hall. Bellatrix studied them carefully, catching Draco’s eyes with a slight nod of her head. It only took her a few more moments to find the boy who must be Potter. He looked so like his father, although as he reached the Sorting Hat, she saw that his eyes were just like Lily’s. Her eyes flicked to Severus; she remembered the day he had sought an audience with Voldemort and she had listened in from the door, hearing him asking for Lily’s life to be spared. She knew that he had loved her in school and as she watched Snape’s eyes fix on the boy, she wondered whether he had ever gotten over that. 

The hat began to sing and Bellatrix resisted the urge to roll her eyes; the hat was spending too much time with Dumbledore and becoming more and more flamboyant every year. She clapped along with the rest of the Hall when it had finished and watched Minerva stepping forward with the list of new students. 

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted. Abbott, Hannah!”

Bellatrix tuned the hat out, considering the empty plate in front of her. She always tried to tune out these moments; the first years were usually so anxious about their sorting that they thought very, very loudly. Bellatrix closed her eyes momentarily as she focused on trying to ignore the din. Her eyes snapped open when she heard ‘Longbottom, Neville’. 

The boy fell over on his way to the stool and the hat took its time with him, before announcing that he would be in Gryffindor. He ran off still wearing it and had to return it; his face red amidst choruses of laughter from the other students. Bellatrix’s eyes followed him to the table. 

  
_**Frank and Alice’s son.**_

Screams tried to rise from the depths of her memories but she shoved them down and focused on her nephew, who had just been called. The hat barely skimmed his hair and cried ‘Slytherin!’; Bellatrix smirked and clapped as he joined the house he was born to fit in. He looked up at her and gave a grin; she arched her eyebrow and nodded in approval. 

**_Cissy will be ecstatic._**

She stretched her hand out to pick up her goblet instinctively, only to remember that it was not yet filled and instead circled the edge with her finger tips, focussing on the feeling instead of paying attention to the sorting. Until…

  
“Potter, Harry!”

The Hall burst into whispers and she narrowed her eyes at the Slytherin students that were nearest to her. Those that saw hushed immediately, but the rest of the students began to crane their necks, some at the back standing, in order to see Harry. 

The sorting hat took its time and Bellatrix, like everyone else in the room, watched intently. 

_**It would be interesting, even a little ironic, if he were to be placed in Slytherin.**_

The boy gripped the seat and she heard a faint whisper in her head, despite her attempts to block any thoughts. 

_Not Slytherin, not Slytherin._

Bellatrix pursed her lips. _**Well then.**_

The hat shouted ‘Gryffindor!’ and that table burst into cheers and applause; Bellatrix rolled her eyes as she heard the Weasley twins’ chorus of ‘we got Potter! We got Potter!’ The boy sat down and looked up at the table as the next new student went to the Sorting Hat. Bellatrix watched as his eyes skimmed the table, grinning, and turned to look at the Slytherin table before his eyes reached hers. She heard yet another Weasley get placed in Gryffindor, not that there was any surprise there, and then a final new Slytherin, Blaise Zabini, rounded off the sorting. Minerva rolled up the scroll and took the Sorting Hat away and then Dumbledore stood and opened his arms in welcome. 

“Welcome,” he said. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!”

Bellatrix was pleased when her goblet was filled and took a sip before starting on her food. Minerva was talking to Dumbledore next to her and Quirrell was sitting on her other side nervously, picking at his food. She rolled her eyes although she supposed she couldn’t blame him; sitting between her and Snape would make most people nervous. 

When the feast was over and the students had gone to their common rooms, Bellatrix slipped away from the other teachers, intent on heading back to her room and collapsing into bed in an attempt to get some sleep before the first day of teaching. 

“P -professor Black!” Quirrell called after her and she paused, gritting her teeth. 

“Professor Quirrell.”

“I w-w-was w-wondering w-whether you w-wanted me to meet you b-before class tomorrow?”

“Why on earth would I want that?” Bellatrix’s lip curled and Quirrell trembled in front of her. 

“I th-th-thought we sh-should talk about who will t-t-teach wh-what.”

Bellatrix looked him up and down, frowning. She had never particularly cared to pay attention to the man, but since she would have to put up with him for the entire year, she supposed she would have to at least be civil. Still, that didn’t mean she couldn’t have a little fun...

“Well, Quirrell, I imagine that I will be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts, unless you were considering teaching another subject?”

With that she turned and strode out of the room, disappearing down the corridor with her skirts swirling around her. 

***

Bellatrix’s head hurt. The first years were so loud and she couldn’t yell at them to be quiet because they weren’t actually speaking. 

_**I thought I had this under better control…** _

Bellatrix strode through the rows of students towards the back of the classroom, abandoning Professor Quirrell at the front. 

.... _why is this so difficult…_

_….scary as hell what if she yells at me I don’t think I…_

_… the brightest witch of her age, I want to be that too, focus…_

_… stomach won’t stop growling, can’t wait for the Hallowe’en feast..._

_… can’t believe they let her teach here_ … 

  
She whirled around, glaring at the back of their heads. She knew they couldn’t help it but it didn’t mean it was any less irritating. Aside from the fact that only a few seemed to be actually focussed on the task at hand, instead of her, they were just so… young. So many of them had names that she recognised from her past; parents or other relatives involved in the war. Weasley, Longbottom… Potter. 

She looked at the back of his head; saw him shift in his seat as he studied the book in front of him. The Weasley boy seemed to have become his friend and the two were at odds with Draco often; several teachers had mentioned seeing them facing off against each other in corridors or during flying lessons. She rolled her eyes. She cared for her nephew, but his father was slowly ruining the boy. Perhaps she should make more of an effort with him. 

“Who can tell me what the three spell categories are?” She snapped suddenly, making the whole class jump, including Professor Quirrell. 

Granger’s hand shot up first, as Bellatrix had expected; the girl was bright and promising. **_Such a shame she’s in Gryffindor_**. 

“Granger.”

Hermione Granger turned in her seat to look at Bellatrix eagerly. 

“Jinx, Hex and Curse, Professor.”

“And what separates these spells?” Bellatrix looked around for other volunteers. “Potter.”

“Erm… they do different things?”

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. 

“A little more detail. Weasley, give us some more information.”

“Uhm… well a curse… a curse is…” He stuttered and Bellatrix’s eyes rolled harder. She strode between the desks again and past Granger, with her hand still in the air, to the desk where Weasley sat. 

“You are a pureblood, Weasley, I would expect you to know the answer. Granger knows and she’s a muggle-born!” Weasley shot Granger a dirty look and Bellatrix narrowed her eyes at him before turning to Granger. “Answer the question.”

As the girl leapt into an explanation about the differences between the three spells, Bellatrix raised her eyebrow. The girl was a walking textbook; she wondered if she would have as much potential in the practical side, once they had moved on from study. 

With class over, Bellatrix dismissed the students and was relieved to see Professor Quirrell leaving directly after them instead of hanging around as he had been in a number of her classes so far this year. Perhaps he was looking forward to the Hallowe’en feast. Bellatrix packed away her teaching materials and decided that she had time to head to the library to collect a few books before heading to the Great Hall for the evening festivities. 

***

Bellatrix had just taken a bite of her food when Quirrell came sprinting into the Hall, his eyes wide and his mouth slack in horror. His turban was at an angle and he was pale. Everyone stared as he collapsed in front of Dumbledore, leaning on the table for support, gasping. 

“Troll... in the dungeons… thought you ought to know.”

He collapsed to the floor in a faint and the Hall exploded into panic. Dumbledore stood, shooting purple firecrackers into the air to draw attention to him and silence descended. Bellatrix pressed her fingers into her temple, which was throbbing. 

“Prefects, lead your houses back to the dormitories immediately!”

As the students began to file out under the care of the Prefects, Dumbledore gathered them together. Madam Pomfrey was already leaning over Quirrell, trying to revive him. 

“Pair up; we don’t want to run the risk that the troll will come up from the dungeons without meeting us. Send a message if you find it and do try to prevent any significant destruction to the castle in the process,” Dumbledore commanded with his usual attempt at humour to lighten the situation. 

Bellatrix began to head out, only to be joined by Snape.

“Odd, isn’t it?” Snape said in his usual drone. “A troll in the castle.”

“Yes,” Bellatrix replied. “This goes beyond a Weasley twin prank.”

“Some other reason then.”

“Indeed.” They did not speak again, both in their own thoughts as they took the stairs down towards the dungeons. When they were almost at the entrance, Snape stopped still, causing Bellatrix to almost collide with him. “Severus, what-”

Without saying a word, Snape turned and began running back along the corridor. Bellatrix gritted her teeth and rolled her eyes, turning and continuing into the dungeons. 

She met McGonagall after ten minutes and the older witch raised an eyebrow. 

“Where is Severus?”

“He vanished like he’d remembered he’d left a stove on before we got to the dungeons. Where’s Dumbledore?”

“I left him dealing with Peeves. He’s-” A sudden roar above their heads cut through the conversation and both witches looked up, then at each other, before turning and running towards the exit. They followed the sounds of crashing and roaring and almost collided with Snape and Quirrell who appeared from another corridor. Bellatrix barely glanced at them as she ran down the corridor.

They burst through the door to find a troll amidst the debris of several sinks; Potter and Weasley standing over it with surprised grins on their faces. Quirrell took one look at the troll and sat on the toilet, clutching his heart, with a faint whimper. 

_**What an idiot.** _

“What on earth were you thinking of?” McGonagall was pure fury and Bellatrix joined her in glaring at the two boys while Snape bent over the troll to check it. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed. Why aren’t you in your dormitory?”

“Please, Professor McGonagall… they were looking for me.”

“Miss Granger!”

Bellatrix peered past the boys, the troll and the wreckage to see Granger standing, looking shaken. 

“I went looking for the troll because I… I thought I could deal with it on my own, you know, because I’ve read all about them.”

 _ **She’s lying. Why?**_ Bellatrix studied the two boys and Granger. **_Perhaps some sort of crush on one of them._** _**Goodness, I hope she has better sense…**_

The girl had finished telling them her version of what had happened and the boys were doing an unconvincing job of pretending that she was telling the truth. Bellatrix wondered how many times she could roll her eyes in one evening before she got dizzy. 

Once the first years had been sent back to their dorms, they worked together to remove the troll. Bellatrix stayed deep in thought and it was only when they returned to the castle that she noticed that Snape was walking with a limp. 

_**What have you been up to, Severus?** _

***

Bellatrix was beginning to lose patience with Quirrell. It hadn’t been her idea to have him spend the year learning from her and sharing classes, but she had at least thought that he would make the effort. Instead, he had missed several classes this week alone and against all odds had become paler, thinner and seemed to be stuttering more than usual. With exams approaching and the students’ stress levels mounting, Bellatrix was almost at the end of her tether. Every night, the bottles of firewhiskey called to her and it was rare that she didn’t have one or two glasses a night, at the very least. At this point, she might let the seventh years practice jinx’s on him; if he showed up to their class, that is. 

“Professor Dumbledore!” She spotted him heading to the front doors and hurried to catch up, students moving swiftly out of her way as she did. He slowed, presenting one of his genial smiles to her. 

“Bellatrix, I was just on my way to the Ministry; urgent business apparently. How can I help?”

“Quirrell is useless; if I have to hand over to someone it should at least be a teacher who turns up to-”

“-Technically, Bellatrix, you don’t have to hand over your role. It is your choice whether you leave us or not.”

Bellatrix scowled. 

“You know what I meant. If he’s going to be teaching, he should actually show up.”

“Have you spoken to Professor Quirrell about his attendance?”

“He just stutters and quivers and says something about not feeling well.”

Dumbledore’s eyes changed and the skin around them crinkled.

“I will discuss the situation with Professor Quirrell upon my return, Bellatrix. Must dash.” With that he turned in a flurry of colourful robes and, after a moment, disappeared through the doors. Bellatrix rolled her eyes. 

“I’m surrounded by idiots.” Bellatrix whirled around and strode upstairs, scattering students in her wake. 

***

“You awarded them points! Slytherin won the House Cup and then you rewarded that idiot trio for the most reckless, idiotic behaviour I’ve seen in this school in… I don’t know how long!”

“Bellatrix, please, they earned-”

“I don’t care if you think they earned it or not; you are setting a precedent! Who knows how many students will feel like they can do stupid things just because they might earn their House some more points?”

“Bellatrix,” Minerva interrupted, “I understand your apprehension. Potter, Weasley and Granger acted rashly, endangering all of their lives. But had they not, perhaps He Who Must Not Be Named would be at large once more.”

“Technically, Minerva, this is proof that Tom Riddle has returned as Voldemort. That he didn’t die as everyone thought all those years ago.” Dumbledore’s eyes turned to Bellatrix again, who had sunk into a chair, her head in her hands. “As I suspected.”

“Yes, yes, we all know how clever you are,” Bellatrix snapped. “Albus, he’s back. He’s out there somewhere, barely human. He’s been living among us. None of us knew. I keep thinking over everything I said around Quirrell, wondering if anything I said-”

“Perhaps this is a conversation better left unsaid,” Dumbledore interrupted. “I see no reason why we should be concerned.”

“No… reason…” Bellatrix gripped the arms of the chair so hard that she thought they might splinter. “The Potter boy almost died, Albus.”

“But he didn’t.”

“If it wasn’t for the Granger girl, he would have!”

“I don’t believe it was entirely Miss Granger’s-” McGonagall began. 

“-Oh please, we all know she’s the brains of the bunch. Academically speaking, I mean; she can’t be that intelligent if she’s allowing those idiots to lead her into situations like this.”

“I can think of another witch with the same title who has gotten into more trouble…” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled and McGonagall huffed a short breath that hid a chuckle. Bellatrix scowled. 

“You’re making a joke of this situation.”

“No, Bellatrix, I am merely suggesting that happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times-”

“Yes, yes, save it for one of your speeches.” Bellatrix waved his words away and stood up. “I need a drink.”

“Bellatrix-”

“Don’t Bellatrix me that way, Albus. The school year is over, my Lord has returned and you were right all along. A celebration is in order.” With that, Bellatrix headed for the door, stopping only when her fingers brushed the handle. “You’ll need to find another Defence teacher. I will need to travel. I need to find him.”

“Of course, Bellatrix. But I will expect a monthly update, in person. Leaving your position entirely will only make things more difficult.”

“You have your way Albus. I’m not leaving. I’m as trapped as I ever was.”

With that, Bellatrix left, slamming the door behind her. 

The empty corridors suffocated her; the darkness blending with her cloak as it swirled around her feet, the cold seeping into her bones. It chased her down the moving staircase, past portraits that watched her with curious eyes, until she was running through the corridor, desperate to make it to her rooms before it devoured her whole. 

The door closed behind her and she collapsed on the floor, the sob tearing through her as though an invisible hand had clawed it from her chest. Her nails raked the stone floor, grasping for something, anything, to anchor her as she shattered into a thousand pieces. 

**_He’s back._ **

She wasn’t sure what scared her more; the fact that his return meant that she was tied to the life she had been living since she was a student, or that some part of her, hidden in the darkest depths of her soul, was almost… glad. 

Hours later, stiff from the cold stone that she’d been lying on, Bellatrix managed to crawl over to the fire and whispered it into life. The heat barely touched her and for a moment her fingers hovered inches from the flame, before sensation returned and she snatched it back, singed. Climbing onto the sofa was too much effort so she sat there, by the hearth and summoned a bottle to her. It was half empty when the thought crossed her mind. 

**_He’s back and now I have a purpose again. That’s why I’m glad. The day he died… a part of me did too._**

So she drank more, to try and avoid the spiral that her thoughts threatened to fall into after that revelation. The debate over opening a second bottle was swiftly brought to a close when she realised that she couldn’t remember the spell to bring it to her. She stared hard at the kitchen, willing the bottle to come. 

There was a faint smash. 

Groaning, Bellatrix’s head rolled back and with an in-elegant lack of balance, her body followed. The fire flickered, reflected in her dazed and unfocused eyes as the carpet became her bed. 

“My Lord… is alive…”


	2. Shatter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T/W for suggestions/mentions of suicidal thoughts and childhood abuse. 
> 
> Bellatrix remembers other moments of her past, chases the screams away with something more than firewhiskey and we are in Hermione's 3rd year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's some smut in this, a bit of trauma, flashbacks etc I hope you like.

**_Death would be peaceful._ **

_It was the lone thought that invaded her mind whenever she submitted to exhaustion; the second before she lost consciousness. It whispered to her; soothing, tempting, as though coaxing her towards the thought. When she woke, it lingered on her tongue, in her bones and ran through her blood, threatening to drag her back under; promising to end her suffering._

_Somehow, she always stood and her mission continued._   
_He enjoyed her torment. He liked to watch her burn._

_Her lord._

_She felt him at her elbow when she raised her wand and whispered ‘Crucio’ like a lover’s name; could hear the inhuman laughter from him as screams permeated the air and, as she broke the spell, the strangled sobbing became the soundtrack to him stroking her hair away from her ear so he could hiss into it._

_“Good Bellatrix… you wear suffering so well. My right hand; you are death in human form.”_

_And so she became death, because she couldn’t let it claim her until she was done._

_***_

She wondered why he hadn’t tried to find her, if he was out there somewhere. Surely she, his most loyal follower, would be his first port of call? But perhaps he now believed that she no longer filled that role… perhaps he knew that she never truly had. 

She had lost track of time, the weeks and months seeming to blend until she barely noticed the seasons as she crossed from country to country, seeking any news. It wasn’t until the owl arrived from Hogwarts that she realised she had been gone for almost a full year. 

_Bellatrix,_   
_Albus has asked me to confirm whether you will be returning to us_   
_in the new school year. Gilderoy Lockhart turned out to be an unsuitable replacement_   
_for you._

_In other news, Potter, Weasley and Granger have been indulging in ‘reckless_   
_idiotic behaviour’, as you coined it; they took it upon themselves to_   
_stop the Basilisk that has been plaguing the school. The tale is rather_   
_unbelievable; perhaps when you return I shall fill you in._

_Wishing you luck in your continued travels,_   
_M. McGonagall_

Bellatrix studied the scroll of parchment, going over the words twice before she burned it from existence. It left black soot on her fingers and she wiped it on her skirts before glancing at the owl. 

“Sounds like a summons to me.”

The owl hooted and flew away, leaving Bellatrix alone with her thoughts. 

_**A whole year… I’ve been gone for so long. And nothing, no sign…** _

She stood, running her thumb over the handle of her wand before waving it and vanishing with a loud crack. 

  
***

_**Curse Sirius. What was he thinking?** _

Bellatrix crumpled the newspaper article in her fist, gritting her teeth and closing her eyes, feeling the tremors beginning. She tried to calm, but after a minute of failing to do so, she felt her skin beginning to burn and dropped the newspaper, eyes shooting open, as The Daily Prophet burst into flames, leaving scorch marks on the table. 

She stood, the screech of the chair against the stone floor making her grit her teeth harder, and grabbed the bottle of firewhiskey, pulling off the lid and bringing the bottle to her lips. The heat spread down her throat and settled in her stomach, settling some of the nerves but doing nothing to quell the anger and frustration burning inside her. She walked over to the window, leaning out of it and feeling the cool, night air against her heated skin. 

“How the fuck did you break out, idiot cousin?” She muttered under her breath, looking out at the reflection of the moon on the Black lake. She lifted the bottle to her lips again and drained another gulp or two, before only the dregs slid down the neck of the bottle and past her lips. She lowered the bottle and looked at it bitterly. It numbed the pain, it was almost the only thing that did, but still she felt the sharp edges of suffering biting at her insides. 

_**Perhaps he will find me. Will he want to kill me? James and Lily were his friends… the boy… he’s going to want…** _Bellatrix leaned out of the window, stretching her neck to angle her face to the moonlight. She had the urge to howl at it. _**Always did. Maybe the wolf was there all along.**_

Instead, she looked down at the bottle, the neck held between her fingers. Her gaze flicked down. 

**_Shatter._ **

She let it slip from her fingers and leaned as far out of the window as she could to watch it. The faint sound of it shattering on the cobblestones below reached her and she saw the moonlight glinting off of the shards as they were flung out across the dark stone. 

She remained there for a long time, staring down at the broken pieces, until the desire for more whiskey overwhelmed the exhausted longing for oblivion, and she sank back into her room and away from the night. 

***

The eyes of strangers could burn hotter than fire, chill colder than ice, but Bellatrix’s eyes could extinguish and melt in their darkness, and no one dared look for long. She could feel the fear, the doubt and something else. _ **Curiosity.**_

She rolled the last drop of firewhiskey around the bottom of the bottle bitterly, gritting her teeth. The barman had already disliked serving her one bottle; she doubted he would be happy to give her a second. She grimaced as she recalled his thoughts, slipping from him into her mind before she could stop them. 

_...she gets wasted she could destroy the place but if I say no she’ll definitely kill me…_

She saw him watching her and bared her teeth in a grin that sent him running to the other end of the bar. Sometimes they didn’t even dare look at her. 

_**Shame it doesn’t stop them thinking so loudly.** _

The risk of going out; hearing all the thoughts screaming in her direction. It made her tremble inwardly. Her reputation stained her like ink on parchment… like blood on pure, innocent skin. 

_Please, don’t… I didn’t do anything…_

Screams filled Bellatrix’s mind and she winced, closing her eyes tightly and pushing at the thoughts, trying to lock them away again. 

_**No. Not now.** _

_PLEASE!_

Bellatrix slammed the bottle of firewhiskey down on the bar; it didn’t shatter but the entire bar was now focused on her, their thoughts permeating her skin, mixing with the screams in her mind. 

_Dangerous… but beautiful…_

The thought caught Bellatrix’s attention and she grabbed onto it, holding onto the lifeline. She shifted, letting her eyes drift across the room, until she fixed on a woman in the corner. As soon as Bellatrix’s eyes landed on her she had looked away, blushing, but it was definitely her. 

_**Pretty distraction.** _

Bellatrix slipped from the bar stool and leaned back on the hard wood of the bar, resting her elbows on it and waiting with a crooked smile on her face. It didn’t take long and she looked back up. 

_Oh… fuck._

Bellatrix grinned wolfishly and sauntered over, placing her hands on the woman’s table and leaning forward, knowing that her corset would give the blushing beauty a good view. The brunette stared up at her, cheeks pink, lips parted slightly. 

“Um… hi?”

“Hello,” Bellatrix purred. “Aren’t you a pretty one?”

That blush spread, across cheeks and down her neck, and Bellatrix followed it as it did. 

_**Wonder what she tastes like.** _

“Oh… no, I’m not really.”

“But I say you are.” Bellatrix lowered herself into the seat nearest, pushing her curls away from her face and leaning on her hand, elbow rested on the table. The woman immediately adjusted herself to face her, nervous. 

_Oh god… oh god… red lips… eyes… merlin…_

“Thank you,” she squeaked and Bellatrix chuckled, darkly. 

“You don’t have to be scared. I don’t bite… unless you beg me to.”

_Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck yes please._

“Um… I… yes.”

“Yes?” Bellatrix arched her eyebrow. 

“I’m… I… would you like to join me? A drink?”

**_Good, not a complete stuttering mess then._ **

“I would love to, beautful,” Bellatrix purred. “But I believe I’ve outstayed my welcome here. But if you have an idea of somewhere else we could go…?”

“I… I have firewhiskey back at my place?”

“Well, that sounds delightful,” Bellatrix grinned. “Lead the way.”

She was almost too eager for Bellatrix, but tonight she needed more than just whiskey. Tonight, she wanted to… to… 

_**Shatter.** _

Her home was neat, quiet and made Bellatrix think of the home of a librarian. 

**_Well, you do have a type._ **

“Here,” she smiled, handing Bellatrix a glass of firewhiskey, before raising her own. “To… new friends.”

Bellatrix refrained from rolling her eyes at the toast and did not repeat it, but clinked the glasses together and took a gulp of whiskey. The brunette took a sip. 

“So,” Bellatrix hummed, stepping forward. “What does a girl like you want with a woman like me?”

_Fuck…_

Images flashed through the brunette’s mind that made Bellatrix’s lip curl and her stomach coil. 

“I want…” Amber eyes trailed over her and Bellatrix smirked. “Something hot and dangerous, for once.”

“Happy to oblige.”

Bellatrix soon found that the woman looked good spread on the kitchen table for her, with her skirt bundled up around her waist and purpling bite marks on her thighs that had left her gasping. 

“Hold still,” Bellatrix husked, the bottle of firewhiskey between her fingers as she surveyed her work. The woman whimpered, wet and open to the cool air and Bellatrix smirked down at her. “Something hot, you said?” 

Her wand slid out of her sleeve and with a flick, the brunette was bare, her fingers gripping the table desperately as pert nipples strained against the air. Bellatrix climbed up and straddled her thigh, as amber eyes stared up at her desperately. 

The firewhiskey rolled over her skin and the brunette’s neck arched into her gasp as Bellatrix’s tongue followed it. The heat burned deliciously and Bellatrix spilled more between her breasts, letting it trickle between her ribs before lapping it up. She pressed her lips to the bottle and collected some in her mouth before leaning down and kissing the brunette, passing some of the heated liquid to her. She rolled her tongue over her lips, collecting escaped droplets, starting up at Bellatrix with full-blown pupils.

“Fuck… please…”

“You’ll have to beg a little more than that,” Bellatrix hissed, biting her lip, before her heated tongue was circling hard nipples, making the woman arch with a cry. Her teeth were merciless; she nipped and bit and sucked until the screams beneath her were louder than the ones in her head. 

“Please! I can’t… please!”

“What do you want?” Her voice was rough, and she was starting to feel a dark urge to leave the woman wanting, laid out on the table like a sacrifice for slaughter, and head into the night. 

“You… please… I…”

Bellatrix snarled and wrapped her spare hand around her throat. 

“What. Do. You. Want?”

“Fuck me… please.”

Bellatrix smirked, leaned her head back and downed the last of the firewhiskey from the bottle before sending it flying across the room to shatter against the wall. She began to grind into the woman’s thigh and then, tightening her fingers around her throat with a quick flex, she slid her fingers into her without mercy. 

Bellatrix wasn’t kind, not in the way others were. But when the brunette had been fucked on every surface she could find, in every position that Bellatrix wanted her in, until she was a trembling, half-conscious mess, Bellatrix pulled the covers over her before she attempted to leave. The arm across her waist held her back and she resisted the urge to push it away, for now. 

“You didn’t…” The brunette lifted her head wearily. “Don’t you want to…?”

“No,” Bellatrix replied roughly. “You can barely keep your eyes open.”

“I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s not like I gave you a chance,” 

“No,” an exhausted giggle whispered from her lips. “You really didn’t. Stay for a bit?”

“No, I don’t stay.”

“I don’t...” a yawn escaped her and she buried herself into Bellatrix’s side, making the woman freeze, “...expect to wake up to you.” Another yawn. “Just… until I…”

Sleep claimed her, leaving Bellatrix staring unseeingly ahead of her. If anyone had been with them in the room, they would have been surprised to see the tremble of Bellatrix’s chin and her lip, the twitching flutter of one of her eyelashes; the only movement on her rigid body. A single tear gathered and spilled, splashing hotly on her cheek, disturbing her from her thoughts. 

She reached her hand up and slowly pushed the flat of it across her cheek and under her eye, collecting the evidence, breathing in deeply through her nose. Then, quietly, she slipped from the bed, down the stairs and disappeared into the darkness. A loud crack echoed off of the buildings, and then the street was silent again, as though nothing had disturbed its moon-lit shadows.

***

Minerva was waiting outside of her door and Bellatrix gritted her teeth at the look of disapproval on her face. 

“It’s after midnight Bellatrix; where have you been?”

“I didn’t realise I had a curfew, Minerva.”

“The students return to school tomorrow, I would have thought-”

“All the more reason for me to have one last night of freedom then,” Bellatrix interrupted her, opening her door. “Now if that’s all?”

“No, it certainly isn’t all, Bellatrix. I informed all the other teachers at the meeting you missed this evening…”

“Oh, was that tonight? How sad.”

McGonagall huffed and Bellatrix shot her a smirk. 

“I informed all the other teachers that I have written to the Ministry of Magic and they have permitted Hermione Granger to use a time turner, in order for her to take enough classes to reach her full potential.”

Bellatrix stopped and stared. 

“You have got to be joking.”

“I am, in fact, not joking.”

“Minerva, the girl is intelligent, yes, but time turners are dangerous. She alone, I might trust but with those two idiots-”

“-students, friends, any of those words are more suitable-”

“-anything could happen.”

“She has, of course, been instructed that she cannot tell anyone about the instrument. Including her friends.”

“Minerva-”

“Bellatrix, you were once granted the same privilege; I don’t recall anyone arguing about your suitability, despite some of your behaviour veering more towards that of your nephew than Miss Granger.”

Bellatrix scowled. 

“I was an exceptional student, Minerva.”

“No one is denying that, Bellatrix. But you were also your own particular brand of a handful, and yet the time turner was used without issue, was it not?” Bellatrix gritted her teeth, but nodded. “Excellent. Oh and before I go, Professor Dumbledore wanted to speak to you. He said he would be in his office.”

Rolling her eyes, Bellatrix closed the door, turned on her heel, and marched back down the corridor. 

_**When will it end?** _

***

The chill settled over her skin and tugged at her chest, threatening to turn her to ice. 

“Dementors?”

“Yes, Bellatrix,” Dumbledore replied. “I am not happy about it either but the Minister is insisting-”

“-Fudge is an imbecile,” she hissed. “He really thinks Sirius would attack the castle?”

“I don’t believe any of us know what Sirius is capable of at this point,” Dumbledore said carefully. “After all, no one could have predicted the events that led him to be in Azkaban in the first place.”

“You do realise that when you make it supremely obvious that you know something, don’t intend to tell me, but want me to know that you’re so damn clever, it makes me want to shove those spectacles down your throat, don’t you?”

Dumbledore just chuckled, which made Bellatrix’s mood even worse. 

“I am afraid we shall just have to do our best and hope that our new guests will not cause too much of a disturbance. I am sure we will be glad of them should anything happen.”

“I don’t even know why you had me come back. You’ve hired Lupin.”

“Yes, and while he is perfectly capable, the knowledge that you are here might… dissuade Sirius from doing anything rash.”

“Or drive him to do stupid things.”

“You two were always more similar than either of you would ever admit.” 

Bellatrix fixed him with a scathing look. 

“My cousin was always hot headed, acting without thought of consequence. Do you understand what his insistence on denying his blood did to our family? Do you understand how difficult-” she bit back her words and clawed at the wooden armrests with her nails until she had a grip on her memories again, refusing to let them spill out. “Lupin and he were friends, weren’t they?”

“Yes.”

“So, another of your carefully considered manoeuvres?”

“Bellatrix, you really do believe me to be some sort of puppet master, don’t you?” He chuckled. 

“No Albus,” she said, standing stiffly and fixing him with a cold stare. “You’re far too strategic for that. I believe you are playing chess with our lives. Let us hope that you win.”

***

The boy had fallen from the sky and yet the dementors were still here. Bellatrix stood on the roof of the Astronomy tower and stared out at the forest. She missed going out there, under the cover of darkness, for a run. She always felt better after that. But with the dementors so close, the idea now filled her with a cold dread that she couldn’t shift, as though the blood in her veins had become ice. 

She had felt it then, too, when the Quidditch match had been interrupted by those hooded creatures, sucking the happiness from everything and everyone. It wasn’t as though Bellatrix had much in her anyway and she vaguely remembered McGonagall helping her surreptitiously back to the castle, while everyone else was preoccupied with Potter. 

She shivered, but remained outside, not caring that the wind was picking up and icy cold; the beginning of more rain had begun to fall. 

_**Dementors at Hogwarts. My Lord; back from the dead. Sirius out there somewhere, close enough that he had been able to break into Hogwarts and make it to Gryffindor tower.** _

Doubt gnawed at her insides; she hadn’t been close to Sirius since he had been accepted to Gryffindor, but she knew that he was loyal. She had never seen him amongst His followers; in fact she had even discussed how disappointing he was with him. With her Lord. 

She shivered again and decided that it was likely time for dinner. She couldn’t remember when she had last eaten and was starting to feel sick with the emptiness. Slowly, she turned and dragged herself inside and down the stairs. 

She stopped at the bottom, seeing students passing by and shrinking to the shadows. Once the coast was clear, she slipped out of the stairwell and into the corridor. 

“Professor Black!”

 _ **Merlin’s sake**_ -

She swivelled and found Hermione Granger tucked in an alcove, a large book on her lap. 

“Granger.”

“Sorry, I… you’re…” She gestured up and down Bellatrix who glanced down and saw a puddle forming at her feet.

_**Great. Just great.** _

Irritated, Bellatrix withdrew her wand and flicked it, not missing the slight flinch on Granger’s face. She dried immediately. 

“There, are we happy with my welfare now, Granger?”

“Sorry, Professor, I didn’t mean-”

Bellatrix waved her away, her stomach rumbling loud enough that she was sure the young witch would be able to hear. 

“You should be heading to dinner, Granger. Have to keep your strength up, don’t you?”

Bellatrix fixed her with a look and then turned around and marched down the corridor, taking her own advice. 

***

“Christmas dinner. With the students.”

“Yes, Bellatrix.”

“No, Minerva.”

“Albus has set up one table-”

“-I shall not, will not, would never, do that.”

“Bellatrix, be reasonable. What are you doing to do instead?”

“Maybe I’ll go for a run with dear Lupin?” Bellatrix mocked. 

“Bellatrix you know very well that-”

“-Yes, yes,” Bellatrix waved her hand. “I’m aware of the situation, Minerva.”

Minerva pursed her lips. 

“I really think that you should join us.”

“Once again, Minerva, no thank you.”

“You turned down the invitation to your sister’s Christmas dinner.”

Bellatrix raised her eyebrow and pressed her lips together. 

“And how, Minerva, do you know that?”

“Your nephew talks very loudly whenever he discusses his family. Especially to remind people that his Aunt is a teacher at the school and his father works at the Ministry.”

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. _**Draco; too much of his father in him and yet…**_

“I shall speak with him when he returns. Otherwise the affairs of my family, and my plans for Christmas, are not your concern.”

“Bellatrix...” Minerva began, but then trailed off. There was a soft sadness in her eyes and Bellatrix’s heart ached involuntarily. 

“No. Goodnight, Minerva.”

“Very well. Goodnight, Bellatrix. Merry Christmas.”

Bellatrix shut the door, more gently than she usually would and leaned back against it. 

“Merry Christmas,” she whispered. 

_“Merry Christmas, Bella!” A laughing Narcissa cried as she bounced on Bellatrix’s bed, throwing her arms in the air as she landed on her bottom and then burrowed into her sister’s hair to whisper in her ear. “Get up, get up! It’s Christmas!”_

_“So?” Bellatrix grumbled, pulling her duvet up higher. “Who gives a-”_

_“Bella!” Andy’s voice scolded her. “Don’t you dare.”_

_“Oh look, Cissy, Andy’s awake. She’ll take you downstairs.”_

_“But I want all of us to go downstairs!”_

_“Only because you know that’s the only way you can start on your presents,” Bellatrix grumbled again, squeezing her eyes shut against the unacceptable amount of light coming through the window. “Merlin, what time is it? Why’s there so much sun?”_

_“There isn’t, Bella,” Andy said, her voice closer, poking her sister. “It’s because it’s snowed.”_

_Bellatrix’s eyes shot open and she lifted her head to look out of the window. Sure enough, snow covered the edges of the window and she could see it falling through the air outside in thick flakes._

_“Oh!”_

_“See, I knew that would work,” Andy laughed as Bellatrix slipped from her bed and ran to the window. “She can’t get enough of it.”_

_“Shut up, Andy,” Bellatrix muttered, unable to keep her eyes from the beautiful, unblemished snow that had clearly been falling all night. “Let’s go outside.”_

_“But I want presents!” Narcissa pouted._

_“Yes,” Bellatrix said, turning around mischievously. “But presents will still be there after I beat you both in a snowball fight.”_

_“Snow will be there after presents,” Narcissa folded her arms. Bellatrix narrowed her eyes at her._

_“Okay, how about half the presents now, then half of them after a snowball fight?” Andy compromised._

_“Fine,” Bellatrix muttered. “Now shoo, both of you. I need to get dressed.”_

_“Not like we’ve not seen it before,” Andy rolled her eyes, but headed over to the bed and pulled Narcissa from it and onto her hip. “But whatever, now you’re all grown up, I guess you’ve got breasts and stuff.”_

_Bellatrix threw a pillow after her sisters as they left, both giggling._

_She dressed quickly and then ran downstairs, finding both her sisters waiting by the tree, surrounded by presents that they were itching to open. Bellatrix dropped herself to the floor and grabbed a present._

_“Only half, remember?”_

_Narcissa nodded her head enthusiastically and then proceeded to rip the wrapping from the presents that her sisters had gifted her in a matter of seconds._

_“Oh this is so pretty! Oooh a snake! Wow! A dress!”_

_Bellatrix chuckled and rolled her eyes, before slipping the wrapping from Andy’s present swiftly and neatly._

_“Andy, they’re beautiful.”_

_“Probably only keep you occupied for a day or two,” Andy shrugged as Bellatrix sifted through the books her sister had gotten her. “But I thought you could do with some more.”_

_“I love them, thank you.” She laid them carefully to the side and picked up one that she knew had been wrapped by Narcissa. “And what’s this?”_

_“Have to open it, silly!” Narcissa grinned up at her. Bellatrix shot her a grin and opened it. Inside was a photograph frame with a picture of the three of them in it. Bellatrix’s arm was held wrapped protectively around her sisters who were both grinning up at her. “Do you like it?”_

_“I love it, Cissy,” Bellatrix smiled, pressing a kiss to her youngest sister’s head. “Thank you.”_

_“Andy helped me choose the frame,” Narcissa admitted. “But I thought of it. And I thought that I could get you a picture every year, and that way you will have lots of memories to look at when you’re old.”_

_“Which won’t be that long, now she’s got breasts.” Andy threw in. Bellatrix pushed her and then folded her arms over her chest._

_“Get off my tits, Andy.”_

_Andy snorted. Cissy giggled._

_“Tits!”_

_“Oh Merlin, you’ve done it now,” Andy rolled her eyes. “Don’t repeat what Bella says, Cissy.”_

_“Why not?”_

_“Because she’s got no manners.” Bellatrix snorted. “See?”_

_“Can we go and throw snow yet?” Bellatrix prompted. “So I can show you just how few manners I have when I beat your ass.”_

_“So polite,” Andy said, snickering. “Sure. Come on Cissy.”_

_The trio headed outside and Bellatrix took a running jump, throwing herself into the snow, laughing. She moved her arms and legs, staring up as snow fell down towards her, and then her sister’s faces appeared._

_“Having fun down there?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Great,” Andy grinned and then looked at Narcissa with a grin. Too late, Bellatrix threw up her arms, but they had already dropped a load of snow on her face. Spluttering, she sat up._

_“Oh, you’re dead.”_

_She gave chase after her shrieking sisters, pelting them with snowballs every couple of feet, cackling loudly when they pleaded for mercy._

_“BELLATRIX!”_

_She spun in the snow, laughter dying on her lips as she came face to face with their father. She dropped the snowball in her hand and stood straight._

_“Father. Merry Christmas.”_

_“What is the meaning of this?” He strode out into the snow. “Look at you all. What a state. Screaming and laughing like children. You woke your mother and I.”_

_“I’m sorry father-” Bellatrix began._

_“Silence,” he hissed. “What a waste of air you are. So weak.”_

_Bellatrix stood, frozen and silent, but she lifted her chin and gritted her teeth. **I am not weak**._

_“Father, we were just playing.”_

_Bellatrix’s eyes closed momentarily at the voice of Narcissa, so innocent, as she and Andy reached Bellatrix._

_“Just. Playing.”_

_“It was my idea,” she said, bringing his attention back to her._

_“What did I tell you about speaking out of turn?”_

_Spots of blood on pure white snow._

_The sting of cold air against the cut on her face._

_She was already familiar with his ring and the damage it could cause when he raised his hand, but better this than his wand. Better this than him turning on her sisters._

_“Cygnus!” Her mother’s voice, from the house, untethered and airy, but with that bite in it that meant she wasn’t fully gone today. Bellatrix looked at her and saw her mother’s eyes, the ones Narcissa had inherited; thankfully without their hardness. “Don’t forget we have photos today.”_

_Cygnus’ lip curled. Bellatrix had never really believed that her mother might be interrupting to save her, but was surprised that the reminder seemed as close to a reprieve as she had ever witnessed._

_“Of course, my love.”_

_“Try to avoid her face; suitors may see.”_

_And Bellatrix was treated to the cruel smile at her mother usually saved for when she had been particularly disappointing._

**_Why today?_ **

_It turned out that what Bellatrix’s parents wanted most for Christmas was to remind her that she was worth very little to them beyond the face that might make her a good broodmare for a good pureblood boy._

_Very little at all._

Bellatrix’s stomach ached with hunger, but she sat and watched the snow fall through the window, her chin resting on her knees. She hadn’t thought about her father since his death. Nor her mother, since hers. 

_**I’m glad you died.** _

“I’m glad,” she hissed, resting her forehead on her knees. 

There was a faint knocking on her door and she raised her head, scowling. Slowly, she rose, feeling the dizziness hit her as she straightened and then padded to the door, pulling it ajar in time to see a House Elf jumping back. 

“What?”

“Professor Black, Tinker has bought you food, Miss. Professor McGonagall asked Tinker to make sure you had eaten, Miss.” Bellatrix’s eyes dropped to the plate of food and goblet on a tray in front of her door. She stared at it, frowning. “Is it… is it not to your liking, Miss?”

“It’s… fine.” Bellatrix leaned down and picked up the tray. “You did well.”

“Thank you Miss, Tinker is very pleased to hear that Mi-”

Bellatrix closed the door. 

_**Minerva. Meddling old cat. Merlin, that smells good.** _

_******* _

“He claims that he’s innocent?”

“Yes, Bellatrix.”

“I knew he...But Albus-” Bellatrix ground her teeth and twisted her wand between her fingers. 

“I know.”

“Peter Pettigrew? I knew he was friends with the Potters but… he died. Everyone knew he died.”

“Apparently we were mistaken on both accounts.”

Bellatrix paced back and forward, still trying to process all the information. Lupin was watching her carefully, looking more drained than she had seen him all year. 

“I would have said something earlier,” he added. “But I was under the same impression as you until I saw the map.”

“This is going to be... “ Bellatrix raked her fingers through her hair and then narrowed her eyes at Lupin. “What in the name of Merlin’s beard were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I had better stop what was happening.”

“I could hex you, you idiot.”

“Now, now, Bellatrix,” Dumbledore interrupted. “I think we should concentrate on the matter at hand. Harry said that Sybil had a prediction-”

Bellatrix scoffed. 

“Oh yes, her predictions. Last week she predicted that I would one day be married to the Minister of Magic; I hardly believe her to be a reliable source. I’d be more likely to strangle Fudge than agree to marry the buffoon.”

She heard Lupin utter a tired chuckle from behind her but ignored him. 

“Be that as it may, Bellatrix, Sybil has been known to make accurate predictions and from the sounds of it, the one she made in front of Harry is one such prophecy. She said that he would help Voldemort come back to power and, as such, I believe this is not the last we shall hear of Peter Pettigrew.”

Grimacing, remembering the ratty young man who she had come across once and disliked immediately, Bellatrix clenched her fists. 

“So this is it.”

**_We are on the precipice of change._ **

“Yes, so it seems.”

Wordlessly, Bellatrix turned and left the room. As the door closed, she heard Lupin’s low voice. 

“You’re sure you trust her, Albus?”

“Can we trust anyone in times such as these, Remus?”

_**Death would be peaceful.** _


End file.
